Auriana

Auriana fought back the urge to run as she made her way across the Tournament grounds; her booted heels kicking up sprays of powdery soft snow with the speed of her stride. Despite her apology to the Horde, she was still terribly ashamed of having lost control of herself in the first place, though she found it easier to ignore her own seething guilt now that she had a clear goal in mind. She was always at her worst when left to her own thoughts, but in moving, in planning, in acting, she found at least some small measure of peace.

And if she were able to finally determine who was responsible for terrorising the Tournament, well… perhaps it would be enough to balance out what she had done…

As Auriana was currently unable to open a portal herself, she was therefore forced to rely on one of the Kirin Tor mages to grant her passage to Dalaran. Initially, the two young initiates manning the portal had been reluctant to allow her to leave, having been given strict orders to limit travel to and from the Tournament grounds, but a combination of Auriana's high rank and what she imagined was the look of grim desperation on her face finally prevailed.

Much like the Tournament itself, Dalaran had been hastily set up to accommodate the influx of wounded. The initiate mages had teleported her to the large square outside the Violet Citadel, where a number of temporary structures had been erected in order to house the people who could not be accommodated in Dalaran's relatively modest houses of healing. Auriana noted a number of SI:7 agents moving in and amongst the tents, no doubt interrogating every possible suspect, as well as the increased presence of a number of heavily armed Kirin Tor Guardians. No one, it seemed, was prepared to risk any chance of further chaos and bloodshed.

Auriana looked around for someone she might know, hoping to learn of Jaina's current whereabouts, but there were no familiar faces amongst the throng. That was not to say her arrival had gone unnoticed - the back of her neck prickled as she felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn towards her, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes forward as sought out the assistance of the nearest Guardian.

"Excuse me - do you know where I can find Archmage Jaina?" she asked. "It's somewhat urgent."

The lanky high elf started a bit as he recognised her, but quickly recovered.

"I believe the Lady Proudmoore is resting in her chambers."

His tone was neutral, though Auriana couldn't help but to wonder if he knew why Jaina was convalescent. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had - the Dalaran rumour mill was both swift and efficient, and the Tournament was all anyone on Azeroth had talked about for weeks. If he did know, or suspect, at the very least he was polite enough not to say anything; merely inclining his head in acceptance of Auriana's thanks as she turned to ascend the grand stairway leading up into the mighty Violet Citadel.

Unfortunately, Jaina's rooms were located in one of the Citadel's highest minarets, and it was quite the journey to reach the top. Even though the tower was full of short-range portal runes that allowed people to move quickly between floors, there were still several long corridors and sweeping staircases to ascend. More than once, Auriana had to stop to catch her breath; all the while cursing her own exhaustion. She hated feeling weak, even when she had a perfectly reasonable reason for doing so, and she pushed herself so hard as to be light-headed by the time she rounded the corner into the warmly lit corridor outside Jaina's rooms.

The two Guardians keeping watch over Jaina's door subtly tightened their grips on their staves as Auriana approached. She wasn't at all surprised to see them, given the state of the rest of the city, and in truth she was glad to see that Jaina had given at least some consideration to her own ongoing safety - or she was, until the taller of the two guards spoke.

"I am sorry, Archmage, but the Lady Proudmoore is not currently receiving any visitors," he intoned, his voice slightly muffled by his distinctive helmet. "You'll have to return another time."

Auriana supposed she ought to be grateful that Jaina hadn't banned her specifically, though she didn't want to waste time arguing with well- meaning guards.

"This isn't a social call," she clarified, trying to look as composed as one could when sweaty and out of breath. "I have important information regarding the recent attack on the Tournament that I'm sure Lady Proudmoore will want to hear."

The Guardians exchanged a look, though neither made to move out of the way.

"Time is something of a factor here," Auriana added, the slightest bit of an edge creeping into her voice. "And I will take full responsibility for the interruption. Please."

Once again, it seemed she appeared just desperate enough as to be convincing. The shorter of the two Guardians shrugged, and after a moment's further hesitation, they each stepped to the side so that Auriana might pass.

As Auriana raised her hand to knock on the door, however, she was overcome by a wave of nervousness that made her knees weak and sent her heart racing. Jaina wasn't really the type to yell or scream, but Auriana feared her cold disappointment far more than any display of anger. There were precious few people on Azeroth she counted as friends, and if her furious assault on Jaina and Kalecgos had irreparably damaged their still-developing relationship, she would never forgive herself.

"Archmage?"

Both Guardians had turned fully to face her, and Auriana did not need to be able to see their faces to tell that they were thoroughly confused by the fact that her knuckles were frozen in place about three inches shy of the actual door. She took a deep breath, and quickly knocked three times.

"Yes?"

Jaina's voice, barely audible through the heavy oak. Auriana's throat went dry.

"Jaina? It's… it's Auriana. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need your help…"

There was a tense pause, and for a moment Auriana genuinely thought Jaina might refuse her. She bit her lip, uncertain as to whether she should try again, when Jaina spoke a second time.

"Come in."

Auriana gathered her courage, and slipped into the room. She had never had much cause to spend time in Jaina's private chambers before, and she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Much like the King's chambers in Stormwind, they were a boon of her high position, having once belonged to Archmage Rhonin, and dozens of Archmagi before him. Auriana knew Jaina had offered to allow Vereesa Windrunner to remain in the chambers after her husband's death at Theramore, but Vereesa had gracefully insisted that the chambers had belonged to the Archmage of the Kirin Tor for thousands of years, and they would continue to do so. While Jaina had been somewhat reluctant to accept, she had also been made abruptly homeless by the destruction of Theramore, and had eventually acquiesced.

Even though it had been years since Jaina had taken up residence in the tower of the Archmage, however, it appeared to Auriana as if she did not yet entirely consider the space hers. There were little hints of Jaina's personality scattered here and there - the well-loved books crammed into every nook and cranny were distinctly 'Jaina' - but the rest of the decor visibly lacked her personal touch. The decadent purple curtains and finely made furniture, while beautiful, were the same as any other parlour in Dalaran, and the landscapes and portraits that lined the walls did not depict any place or any person Jaina herself considered especially dear.

In truth, aside from the books, the only other thing that struck Auriana as being truly Jaina's was a freshly-cut blue rose resting in pride of place in a vase on the side table nearest to Jaina's right hand; its ethereal petals shimmering with the faint white glow of pure magic. Auriana couldn't name the blossom, not having any particular expertise in magical horticulture, though it was quite possibly one of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen.

And then there was Jaina herself. She was seated not upon a regular chair, but rather a plush, floating chaise that hovered about two feet above the floor. Even from the doorway, Auriana could sense the immense power and skill that had gone into making the device; most likely Jaina's own work. Her broken leg was stretched out before her, heavily bandaged and splinted, though she did not appear to be visibly uncomfortable. Whether that was due to the skill of Dalaran's healers, or Jaina's own considerable fortitude, however, Auriana couldn't tell. Perhaps both.

"Auriana."

"Jaina."

Auriana fought back the urge to squirm beneath Jaina's cool gaze. Should she speak first? Should she wait? Should she apologise?

"The healers seemed to think you would be out for a few more days," Jaina said quietly, saving her the trouble. "I was going to come and see you, but as you can imagine, things have been a little chaotic around here."

Auriana blanked for a moment, and she felt her cheeks blaze hot.

"You're… you're asking after me?"

Jaina cooked her head to one side, as if confused by the question.

"Auriana… you saw your husband get shot. You were also channelling far more magic than you - or anyone else, for that matter - ever should. Of course I'm asking after you." She frowned. "Your cheeks are very pink. Do you need some water? Would you like to sit down?"

"Um… no, I'm… I'm fine," Auriana mumbled, self-consciously pressing the back of her hand against her left cheekbone. "Jaina… I broke your leg."

"I knew full well what the consequences might be when I challenged you. I understand your abilities better than most people on Azeroth."

Jaina cleared her throat, and brushed her fingers lightly along the edge of one of the blue rose's petals. From the expression on her face, Auriana now strongly suspected that the flower had been gifted to her by Kalec; no doubt a token of his affection and well wishes for her speedy recovery. There was a faint wistfulness in the tilt of Jaina's lips, though also a sense of hopefulness and warmth in the way she cradled the delicate bloom between her fingertips.

"When Theramore was destroyed, it was like a knife to my heart. I wanted everyone in the Horde to know that pain, and I was prepared to destroy Orgrimmar in order to achieve that goal." She shook her head, and eyes clouded over. "I am grateful that there was someone there to stop me that day, and I thought you might appreciate the same courtesy."

Auriana felt a strange lump well in her throat, and she vaguely wondered how it was that she had come to have such genuine and caring people in her life. People who cared about her. It was certainly nothing she'd ever done… though it belatedly occurred to her that friendship was perhaps not always strictly about what one deserved.

"I do," she stammered, her voice hoarse. "Things could have turned out much worse, and I know I have you to thank for that. So… thank you. And again, I'm… terribly sorry. I don't expect forgiveness, but… I wanted you to know..."

Jaina shook her head.

"Auriana, please. You needn't continue to apologise. You are forgiven." She raised a finger. "Well - on one condition."

"Anything," Auriana said quickly, and she meant it.

"Tell me how you did that spell with the wolves."

Auriana blinked, certain she had misheard.

"... what?"

"I've created constructs before, many times, but not like that. I didn't have much opportunity to examine it while I was running, but from what I could tell, your spellwork was - for lack of a better term - weird."

Jaina folded her hands neatly in her lap, and leaned back in her floating chair. Her expression was carefully neutral, though Auriana thought she saw the faintest hint of something - impatience, perhaps, or even outright vexation - gleaming in the depths of Jaina's ice-blue eyes.

"Hold on - you're not upset that I broke your leg, you're upset that you can't figure out how I did it," Auriana realised, in a sudden rush of understanding.

Jaina conceded the point with a delicate shrug.

"It's been bothering me for days," she admitted.

Of course it has. Auriana wasn't sure why she had expected anything less. Broken legs were one thing, but a magical puzzle? That was something that truly piqued Jaina's interest.

"I… alright. But can we walk… er… float… and talk?" she asked. "I need to get to the Violet Hold. That's why I'm here."

"The Violet Hold?" Jaina's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I must speak to the girl you arrested for the theft of the magebane last year. There is something in her testimony I think I may have overlooked, and I'm also beginning to suspect she lied to us."

"Lieutenant Sinclari has interrogated her a dozen times in preparation for her trial, and her story has never changed; not even by the slightest detail," Jaina pointed out. "What makes you think we missed something?"

"A gut feeling, mostly," Auriana sighed. "At the moment it's not much more than that, so you might just have to trust me on this one."

Jaina regarded her seriously for a moment, then nodded.

"Fortunately for you, I do tend to trust your… ah… 'gut'. Let's go."

Auriana proceeded to give Jaina a brief overview of the most recent developments in the case as they descended the Violet Citadel and out onto the main street, including an update on Varian's health, the discovery of the fake 'orcs', and the strange sonic devices that had been used to torment the nerubians. Jaina listened with rapt attention the entire time, looking away only to ensure that her floating chair did not collide with the walls, though she did not express any of her own opinions or theories as to the identity of the culprit.

In truth, Auriana was grateful for Jaina's silence. It allowed her to process her thoughts in her own time, and the more she spoke, the more she began to feel she was onto something. There was a connection here, she was sure of it, the final piece of the puzzle that would allow her to finally end this nightmare once and for all.

Auriana concluded her tale as they slowly made their way down the promenade outside the Silver Enclave. She took a moment to catch her breath, her throat already slightly scratchy from so much talking, only for Jaina to quickly remind her that she hadn't quite yet fulfilled her end of the bargain.

"And about that spell?"

"Oh. Ah... I'm not really sure where to start."

Auriana had never been especially good at describing her spellwork to others in a way that could be easily understood. Magic had always come so instinctually to her that she found it difficult to articulate her process. It was something that had caused her considerable trouble as a student in Dalaran - apprentices were expected not only to be able to perform magic, but also to be able to explain how and why they had selected a particular method of spellcasting. Auriana's instructors had often admonished her for what was perceived to be a lack of due academic diligence, though her reticence to explain herself had never been a matter of simple laziness. She had most definitely improved her understanding of magical theory since becoming an Archmage, though she still tended to feel rather than think her way through more often than not.

"Um... well… how would you have done it?" she asked Jaina finally, figuring it was as good a place to start as any.

"One would have to be rather precise in terms of the amount of energy put into the spell. Too little and the construct would simply unravel the moment you tried to redirect its movement; too much and the thing would simply explode,"Jaina mused. "So... I'd probably cast seven bindings at the seventh level, using the Alodian method. Per construct, obviously."

Auriana nodded. It was the answer she had expected, and she was somewhat relieved that Jaina's conclusion matched her own.

"Most mages would."

"But not you," Jaina observed pointedly.

"No. I did something… a little different. My spellwork was based upon two key assumptions," she explained, counting them off on her fingers as she spoke. "One, I couldn't fight both you and Kalec at the same time, and… two, you're a better mage than I am."

"Auri…"

"I'm not putting myself down, Jaina," Auriana countered, correctly reading the intent behind Jaina's soft objection. "It's true, and I say that without reservation. You have a technical proficiency that I doubt I will ever match, even if I'm somewhat more… bombastic."

Jaina smothered a quick smile with her hand as Auriama continued.

"Be honest - how long would it have taken you to unravel a seventh-level construct like that, keeping in mind that your ability to counter such a spell is probably greater than my ability to maintain it against you?"

Jaina glanced skywards as she made the mental calculations. "Two or three minutes, maybe?"

It was an impressive figure, but a believable one. There were perhaps only a handful of mages in the world who could have torn apart such a complex working in such a short amount of time, but Jaina was most certainly one of them.

"Right. Now, you were running and casting at the same time, so for argument's sake, let's take the higher number. Three minutes per construct, times three constructs - at best, that gives me nine, maybe ten, minutes to deal with Kalec before I would be forced to fight both of you. Not a lot of time to defeat a mage of his calibre. I needed more."

Auriana had never really fought Kalec in earnest, and while most of the fight was now nothing more than an exhilarating blur in her memory, she distinctly recalled the power and finesse with which he had cast his spells. She may have eventually come out on top, but she had been fighting with a considerable advantage, and Kalec had more than held his own.

"So you did something to the spellwork to make it harder to unravel..."

"Sort of." Auriana paused, and took a moment to choose her words. "Instead of casting at the highest level, I replicated the spell work through the lower bindings. As any first year knows, a single binding at a higher level is equivalent to seven bindings at the next lowest level."

Jaina's forehead creased into a heavy scowl, and she rapped her fingernails thoughtfully on the edge of her chair.

"You replicated the spellwork through the lower bindings… so, instead of seven seventh level bindings, you cast, what, forty-nine sixth level bindings?"

"Three hundred and forty three fifth level bindings, actually," Auriana corrected. "Now, even if you were able to unravel a fifth level binding every ten seconds or so, it would still take you nearly an hour to get through them all, assuming you employed one of the standard methods for counterspelling."

She bit her lip.

"It's a horrible way to cast a spell, really, incredibly inefficient… but I had the power to spare."

Jaina's mouth fell open, and her pale brows knit in a heavy scowl.

"You wasted my time," she said accusingly.

"Essentially… yes. I needed to keep you occupied for as long as possible, so that I could fight Kalec unimpeded. I didn't have to beat you, I just needed you out of the way for a while."

Auriana gave a small, sheepish shrug. Jaina clearly couldn't decide whether she was irritated or impressed - or perhaps whether she wanted to whack Auriana upside the back of the head.

"You cast a deliberately inefficient and inelegant spell in order to waste my time."

At that, Auriana couldn't help but to grin, and she tapped a knowing finger on the side of her nose. "You may be the better mage… but I'm the better duellist."

"Evidently." Jaina graciously conceded with a dip of her head. "You came up with that idea on the fly?"

"More or less, though some of the credit ought to go to Archmage Modera. I've been taking private lessons with her - or at least I was, up until the Tournament started. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that she is a stickler for… well, everything, really. Her drills may not be the most fun I've ever had, but she has improved my technical skills considerably. Her training is what allowed me to cast a spell like that so quickly… not to mention that she's picked up quite a few nasty little duelling tricks over the years."

"I was wondering when she'd take an interest in you," Jaina admitted. "And after the Council voted to officially distance themselves from you after you became Queen… well, let's just say I'm glad she reached out."

Auriana nodded. "I've also been training with Varian."

"Who isn't a mage, last time I checked," Jaina clarified.

"Oh, we both know Shalamayne has more latent magical potential than Varian," Auriana clarified, making Jaina chuckle, "But he's a brilliant strategist. While I'm hardly inexperienced, he's still taught me a lot about how to look at a fight from all angles, and how to really force an opponent to fight on my terms."

"If we ever fight again, I'll remember that trick. It won't work on me twice," Jaina said warningly, though there was no real malice in her tone.

"I suspected as much. Not that I intend to fight you in earnest ever again. I really am sorry about your leg."

"I know you are." Jaina paused, and cocked her head to one side. "Are you alright? Really alright?"

Auriana sighed. She considered lying, but she knew Jaina would see right through any attempt to equivocate.

"I honestly don't know. It's certainly not how I would have chosen to make my debut as Stormwind's new queen." She shook her head, then whispered, "I hate losing control. Almost as much as I hate being used."

"You never should have been put in that position," Jaina agreed, her voice low and unusually fierce. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You've already helped." Auriana drew to a halt, and gestured to Jaina's leg. "You don't hate me, and that's more than enough. I can only hope Kalec might feel the same."

She frowned in sudden thought.

"Where is Kalec, anyway? I had assumed I would find him with you."

"He's been out on patrol, reinforcing our wards and looking for any signs of vandalism or tampering," Jaina explained. "He was reluctant to leave me, but I can't chance another disaster, and there is no one I trust more with the safety and security of my city."

She glanced upwards, as if an enormous blue dragon might fly overhead at any moment, though the skies remained clear.

"I wanted to go with him, but he insisted I rest."

"Sounds familiar," Auriana smiled, as they continued on. It was exactly what Varian would have done.

She hoped Mekkatorque had been able to relay her message. Varian was no doubt still deep in conversation with Tyrande, but when he finished, the first thing he would do was come looking for her, and she didn't want him to fuss. She needed to keep all her concentration on the task at hand, especially now that she felt poised upon the very precipice of unravelling the mystery of the attacks once and for all.

Speaking of which… Auriana paused for a brief second as she and Jaina turned onto the narrow promenade that led to the mighty Violet Hold; it's stonework façade ringed by powerfully warded minarets. It was an imposing building - elegant, yes, but unrelenting. Which, Auriana supposed, was appropriate for a prison housing some of the most fearsome beings in all creation…

… along with a frightened teenaged girl.

Once inside, Jaina immediately sought out Lieutenant Sinclari in order to explain why they were there and to request access to the cell block, and while the Lieutenant was sceptical that there was anything more they could learn, she nonetheless permitted them to make their way down into the prison proper. The inmates shouted - or in some cases, howled - horrible insults and threats at them as they passed, but neither Auriana nor Jaina paid them any mind. Let the rabble crow. They were here for one reason, and one reason only.

The cell they sought was in the lowest security wing of the prison, which typically housed prisoners who had broken the laws of Dalaran itself, rather than the more cosmic strictures of the Kirin Tor - thieves, racketeers, and on very rare occasions, murderers. It was a small area, testament to the fact that Dalaran was typically a low-crime city, and not nearly as heavily protected as the main wings. Still, one never knew who was listening, and as Auriana had learned the hard way, even a simple thief could do an awful lot of damage.

"Wait… can you ward the area against eavesdropping?" she asked Jaina, stopping just short of their final destination. "I'm a little… tapped."

Auriana shrugged sheepishly. Even the thought of calling on her magic made her feel queasy. Fortunately, Jaina understood. She waved her hand, and it was only once Auriana felt the slightly oppressive aura of the silencing ward settle about her shoulders that she took a deep breath, stepped around the corner, and came to stand in front of the very last cell on the block.

"Elanore Hooper?"

The last time Auriana had come to the Violet Hold, she had been seething with rage and hurt. It had only been a handful of weeks since Thorne and his assassins had attempted to take her life, and she had been indescribably frustrated by their inability to arrest Anguile, even if the delay had been with good reason. Jaina, too, had been furious over the breach of her city's security, and the fact that Dalaran had once again been used to commit a crime against people she loved. Neither of them had been in a state of mind to properly listen to the fear and emotion behind Elanore's testimony, and Auriana felt it was now high time she corrected the mistake.

"A-Archmage Jaina," the young woman stammered, putting the book she had been reading to one side and rising hastily to her feet. "And… Your Majesty?"

Elanore had lost a little weight since the last time Auriana had seen her, but otherwise looked about as well as one could when incarcerated. The Kirin Tor did not mistreat their prisoners, unless one was perhaps a demon lord, and they were hardly going to turn the full force of their magical containment devices on a scared and clearly repentant teenager.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions regarding your theft of the magebane," Auriana said coolly.

Elanore's gaze flicked downwards, as if she were suddenly fascinated by her own feet.

"I don't know what more I can tell you…" she said evasively. "I've told the Lieutenant all I know."

"If I recall from our last conversation, your family owns a farm in Redridge?" Auriana pressed.

The young mage tried her best to appear nonchalant at the abrupt change of topic, though a brief, burning flicker of real fear kindled in her eyes for a split second before she regained her composure.

"C-cattle, yes."

"And where exactly is your farm?"

Jaina let out a small noise of confusion at Auriana's line of questioning, but she did not interfere.

"E-east of Lakeshire," Elanore said quietly. "Not too far from the old mill."

"That would make Duke Rohas Anguile your liege lord, would it not?"

As part of her preparations for becoming Queen, Auriana had spent a good deal of time with Stormwind's Master of Laws learning all about the city's history and that of its great and minor noble houses, including their traditional land holdings. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, just one more item on the seemingly endless list of things she was expected to know as Queen, but it had suddenly taken on a whole new relevance.

"I… I think so? I don't know all that much about lords and ladies and that sort of thing…"

And there it is. The connection.

Auriana bit her lip.

"Elanore, I think I owe you an apology."

Elanore met Auriana's eyes for the first time. She was terribly wary and afraid, but beneath it all, there was a spark of curiosity.

"You… you do?"

"When last I was here," Auriana explained, "I was angry. I was hurt. I wanted someone to blame for the attacks on Prince Anduin, on me, and you were… a convenient target."

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You were - are - a talented young mage, about to pass your trials, the first in your family to leave Redridge... and yet you were willing to give all that up for a few handfuls of gold? Gold that Jaina and the Kirin Tor would have happily given you had they known about your circumstances? I didn't question it. I should have."

Elanore did not reply, but her face had gone very, very pale. She wore the stricken, ridgid expression of a cornered animal, and there were tears welling at the corner of her eyes.

"Please…" she whispered.

Auriana took no pleasure in the girl's desperation, though it confirmed that she was indeed on the right track.

"I don't need you to speak. Just listen. And stop me if I get anything wrong."

She cleared her throat.

"You didn't really steal the magebane at random, or because it was worth good money on the open market. You were tasked. The other items you took from the Vault were merely red herrings to disguise what you really came for; to make your actions appear more opportunistic."

What little colour remained in Elanore's cheeks continued to drain from her cheeks the longer Auriana spoke.

"I believe you initially refused whoever approached you. And that's when they came after your family. They set the fire that devastated your family's herd. The message was clear - either you did what they wanted, or they would destroy the people you loved."

Auriana crossed her arms over her chest.

"How am I doing so far?"

"I… I can't…" Elanore sobbed.

"There's no lying your way out of this anymore," Jaina said, though her tone was not unkind. "But if you tell us the truth, we can protect you."

"You don't understand…"

"I understand that you've been incredibly strong," Auriana said softly. "Jaina here tells me that you have been interrogated several times, and your story has never changed. You have always claimed to be solely responsible for the theft. You kept your silence to protect your family."

Elanore blinked. She clearly had not been expecting to garner Auriana's praise, much less to have had her actions be understood.

"I… my f-father… my father wrote to me only once. To say he was disappointed in me," she sniffled tentatively, rubbing the back of her hand across her reddened nose. "And to tell me that he hadn't raised a t-thief."

Auriana's heart clenched. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be in Elanore's position, forced to do something terrible to protect her family, only for that same family to look upon her with shame and dismay. Her father had assumed the worst of her, much as Auriana had when she had failed to listen; failed to look at what had been right in front of her eyes the entire time.

"I'm so sorry." Auriana's frown deepened, and she stepped forward so that the tip of her nose was mere inches from the crackling magical barrier that barred the cell. "I know how brave you've been, but I need you to brave one more time. I need you to tell me what really happened."

"M-my family…"

"I am the Queen of Stormwind, an Alliance Commander, and an Archmage of the Kirin Tor," Auriana declared. "If anyone in the world can protect them, it's me."

She could not reach out to comfort Elanore with the arcane barrier between them, but she hoped the younger woman could hear the sincerity in her voice.

"Elanore. Please."

Auriana stared her down, unblinking. She vaguely wished she had the power to compel Elanore's confession, as she had seen shadow priests sometimes do, though deep down she knew that it was up to Elanore alone to find her courage. All Auriana could do was wait for what felt like an hour, her breath caught in her throat, until at long last Elanore squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw, and finally nodded.

"A while back, I received a letter from my younger brother, asking me to come home for a visit," she started shakily. "He said the family missed me, and wanted to see me. At the time, I didn't think anything of it, but given everything that happened afterwards, I think the letter was probably faked."

She shook her head sadly.

"I had a break in my schedule here in Dalaran, so a few weeks later, I returned home. My parents were surprised to see me, but I brushed it off. It wouldn't be out of character for Tomas to keep something like that a surprise - or even forget that he'd written me at all. He's a bit… flaky, you see, and I was too happy to see them all to care."

Elanore's voice softened at the mention of her family, and Auriana was once again reminded of just how painful she must have found it to be shunned by them.

"We went into Lakeshire most evenings. They play music at the Inn, there's lots of drinking and dancing… Anyway, one night, I decided to leave a little earlier than the rest of my family. He must have been waiting for me, for he found me on the road only a little ways outside the town."

She shivered, but now that she was speaking, she seemed to find it difficult to stop.

"He knew things about me, about my family. He knew I was a student at Dalaran."

Auriana glanced at Jaina for confirmation.

"Enrolment records aren't exactly public," she supplied, "But nor are they strictly kept under lock and key. It's certainly possible."

"He threatened me, said he'd kill my family, " Elanore continued. "I was frightened, but at the time I thought he was just a raving drunk."

"Until the fire."

"Like you said, the timing was too much of a coincidence. My family was devastated. Everything they'd worked so hard for… gone in an evening, and all b-because of me. Because I had refused to steal."

Silent tears began to track down Elanore's face, and it took her a minute before she was able to gather herself well enough to continue speaking.

"The man approached me again, a couple of days after the fire. Said things would get a lot worse if I failed to get what he needed. Said next time, he'd burn people." She swallowed. "I believed him."

Auriana didn't blame her. "So you agreed to steal the magebane?"

"Yes. He gave me instructions for sneaking into the vault, and where to leave the magebane for collection."

"Hold on - he gave you instructions?" Jaina asked sharply. "You didn't develop the plan yourself?"

"No, ma'am. He was very clear. Very specific."

Jaina and Auriana exchanged a pointed look, clearly both thinking the same thing. There had to be a mage involved - and a fairly senior one at that. Someone who could not afford to put their own name on things should the plan go awry, but who could provide access to enrolment records and figure out how to overcome the security around Dalaran's vaults. Jaina's expression grew icy.

"Is there anything you can tell us that might help identify this man?" she asked, her voice clipped.

Elanore shrugged. "Both times we spoke he covered his face, and his voice was… just a man's voice, nothing special..."

Auriana swore under her breath in frustration, only for her heart to leap with sudden hope a second later as Elanore continued.

"... but I followed him." A faint note of pride trembled through her voice. "The second time, I mean. After he gave me the instructions. I'm very good at invisibility spells."

Auriana wasn't especially surprised. Elanore had been bold enough and spry enough to climb around the outside of one of Dalaran's highest towers in order to breach the relatively unprotected outer windows of the Kirin Tor's Great Vault - following the man who had threatened her would not have been much of a stretch.

"Where did he go?"

"Well, he wandered around for awhile. I think he was trying to make sure no one was following. I nearly lost him a couple times… but eventually he doubled back and went up the hill to the big manor that overlooks Lakeshire... Rosendale, I think it's called?"

Rosendale. Manor house of one Duke Rohas Anguile.

Auriana let out a slow, shaky breath, and closed her eyes. This was what she had been waiting for - clear, eyewitness evidence linking Anguile to the attempt upon both her and Anduin's lives… and combined with the strange silver devices retrieved from Northrend, perhaps more. Elanore's testimony may not have been enough to convict him outright - Auriana was hardly a legal expert - but she hoped it was enough to at least take him in for questioning, or obtain a warrant to search Rosendale, or obtain his financial records...

"He took his disguise off as he entered the stables. I didn't get the best look at him, but I saw a little," Elanore added. "He was tall, and very broad. Dark eyes, I think, and a kind of… squashed-in nose. And a beard, a big one."

The description sounded oddly familiar to Auriana, and with a start she realised she had seen a man who matched that description rather recently. Her eyes flew open.

"Very heavy across the shoulders, almost disproportionate?" she said, miming around her own body for effect. "And the beard, thick and wiry like a bush?"

Surprise written across her face, Elanore nodded.

"Auriana…?" Jaina queried.

"The dead body Vol'jin and I found out on the ice matches that description. I mean, there's a lot of people who would, but… it's a bit of a strange coincidence, don't you think?"

Auriana ran a ragged hand through her hair, and for the second time that day, she had to fight to control her racing thoughts lest they run completely out of control.

"I need you to write this all down… or…" Auriana looked to Jaina. "Surely the Guardians have some means of recording testimony?"

Jaina nodded, and silently turned her chaise around to float off towards the command room that overlooked the main floor of the Hold, from whence Lieutenant Sinclari and her Guardians managed prison operations. She returned a few minutes later with a slender purple crystal inscribed with powerful runes for recording both the voice and the holographic visual imprint of a speaker. Jaina muttered the arcane words to activate the device, and for the next half an hour they had Elanore repeat every last detail of her testimony until her voice was faint and hoarse.

"What's going to happen to my family?" she asked, when they were finally done.

"Before I do anything, I'm going to have them taken to safety. Tonight, the very moment I leave here. They're under the protection of the Crown of Stormwind, now," Auriana promised. "And I'm sure, given this new information, Jaina might see fit to commute your sentence for the theft. It was wrong, but you were acting under extreme duress."

"Of course," Jaina agreed swiftly, "But I think that we ought to keep you in your cell for the moment, so as not to arouse suspicion."

"If it keeps my family safe, I'll do anything," Elanore said eagerly.

For the first time since Auriana had met her, Elanore looked hopeful; more like the bright young mage apprentice that she actually was, instead of a frightened girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"I know you would," she murmured. "Thank you, Elanore."

Their business concluded, at least for now, Jaina dismissed the silencing ward with another wave of her hand. She and Auriana then turned in unison to leave; Jaina's forehead creased one of the deepest frowns Auriana had ever seen her wear. She had briefly worried whether someone might see them departing the Hold and draw an unfortunate conclusion, but no one who saw Jaina's face in that moment could have assumed that she had just received good news. Jaina was a sensitive soul - not weak, but she took things to heart. No doubt she was furious that they had discovered evidence of another traitor to the Kirin Tor, and Auriana chose to remain silent as they made their way back out of the Hold and across the small bridge that spanned its outer moat.

"I can't believe we didn't see it," Jaina muttered finally, as she carefully navigated her floating chaise out into the flow of foot traffic feeding into the Eventide.

"It's not your fault, Jaina…"

"Isn't it? She has been in my custody for months."

"It's certainly no more your fault than mine, or Sinclari's, or anyone else involved in the interrogation," Auriana sighed. "We wanted to believe it was over, and we were all too emotionally invested to look deeper once we had Elanore's confession. Anduin is like family to you, and…"

"And I've become rather fond of you, as well," Jaina pointed out, her cold frown briefly lifting into a wry smile. "Not to mention I saw what it was doing to Varian…"

She trailed off, her attention abruptly drawn by something off in the middle distance.

"Speaking of which…"

"Varian!" Auriana exclaimed, following Jaina's line of sight to see the man himself limping down the street towards her; his rugged features twisted into an irritable grimace. "What are you doing here?"

Varian was accompanied by none other than Stormwind's spymaster, Mathias Shaw, who looked about as happy as his surly liege lord. Where Varian's attention was firmly fixed upon Jaina and Auriana, however, Shaw's eyes darted about the crowd with uncanny rapidity, as if he were expecting an attack at any moment. Which, given the events of the last week, was perhaps not as unlikely a possibility as Auriana would have preferred.

"You disappeared with nothing more than a cryptic message from Mekkatorque - that was rather light on details, by the way," Varian said hotly, not even bothering to offer a greeting. "What did you expect me to do?"

He dipped his head, and lowered his voice so that only Auriana could hear.

"This isn't about Tyrande, is it? Auri..."

"What? No," Auriana protested. "I discovered something; a clue. It's important."

"It had better be."

Varian scowled down at her, his eyes burning like hot coals, and Auriana scowled right back. She wasn't about to start asking his permission every time she wanted to leave his sight… though, on the other hand, she supposed she could appreciate how he must have worried. There were assassins on the loose, and Varian was right: she hadn't exactly been specific in her instructions to Mekkatorque.

"You needn't have come all this way," she admonished him gently, caught between her instinct to chafe against his overprotectiveness, and her understanding that his irascibility was merely a front for his fear. "Especially on that leg."

"Don't start with me," he growled. "I'd limp after you into hell if that's what it took; I'm perfectly capable of walking through a portal to Dalaran."

"Varian…"

"Come," Jaina interjected smoothly, placing a warning hand on Varian's arm as she looked between the two of them. "Let us continue this discussion somewhere a bit more private. Believe me, Varian, you're going to want to hear what we've learned."

Varian acquiesced to Jaina's point with a gruff tilt of his head, his eyes briefly widening as he realised that they were, in fact, standing in the middle of the street. Apparently, he had been so focused on getting to Auriana that he hadn't noticed, and she wasn't sure whether she ought to feel flattered or frustrated. She had given him some notice, after all… but Varian was Varian, and there was no force on Azeroth powerful enough to quell his vigilance when it came to the people he loved.

My big, bad wolf.

Auriana sighed, and forced herself to concede their impromptu staring contest so that she might follow Jaina back along the Eventide towards the Violet Citadel. As they walked, Varian placed his free hand on the back of her neck; his thumb lightly brushing the patch of bare skin just below her hairline. A peace offering, of sorts, Auriana knew, as well as a means for Varian to reassure himself that she was safe and well. She immediately softened, and flashed him a conciliatory half-smile. He responded in kind, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a silent gesture of his regard, and together they fell into a natural lockstep as they followed Jaina's path through the streets and up into the Violet Citadel.

Auriana half-expected that Jaina might take them back to her private chambers, or even one of the many teaching rooms or parlours that ringed the Citadel's mighty walls, but instead, she used one of the tower's many teleports to send their small group to the vast and imposing Chamber of Air. Ordinarily home to the Council of Six, the Chamber was enchanted to give the impression that one was floating amongst the clouds upon a giant, circular ring; unencumbered by earthly concerns like doors or walls. The moment they entered, Auriana felt the spells of silence and warding wash over her, and she understood why Jaina had brought them here, of all places. The Chamber was one of the most secure places in Dalaran, if not the world, and with the rest of the Council absent and the wards raised, they could speak freely without fear of being overheard. Auriana had only entered the Chamber a mere handful of times in her life, but she never failed to be awed by it's lofty beauty, even if it were a touch vertiginous. It always felt as if she were flying, weightless above the world… though under the circumstances, her admiration for the Kirin Tor's magical architecture would have to wait for another time.

Auriana cleared her throat to draw Varian and Shaw's attention, both her husband and his spymaster having been caught up in their own first impressions of the Chamber of Air, though they immediately turned their attention back to the matter at hand as Auriana began to speak. She quickly summarised the conversation with Mekkatorque that had led her to Dalaran in the first place, including the possible link between Anguile's silver holdings and the sonic resonators. She then withdrew the crystal bearing Elanore's magical effigy from where she had hidden it beneath her robes, and handed it off to Varian so that he and Shaw could properly attend to the evidence.

Auriana thrummed with nervous energy as she waited for the recording to play through, hoping against hope that Elanore's testimony would give Varian and Shaw something they could use. In fact, barely three minutes in, she found herself so overwhelmed by tense anticipation that she began to pace back and forth across the floor, with such furious intensity that there was a good chance she might have worn a groove. More than once, Varian shot her a warning look, but she flatly ignored him. They were so close, and even as tired as she was, she simply couldn't stand still.

Elanore's testimony had to matter. She was a direct eyewitness, unrelated to the Crown, who could link Anguile and his people to both the theft of the magebane and the attacks on the Tournament. Granted, much of the evidence they had was still circumstantial, but the strength of Elanore's testimony, combined with Auriana's own, surely meant that they had sufficient cause to move against Anguile at long last. It had to...

"So. I'm assuming you have a plan?" Varian asked, about half an hour later, as the shimmering image of Elanore trapped in the crystal dissolved away into nothing, and the Chamber at last fell silent.

Auriana immediately ceased her incessant pacing. Varian's blue-eyed gaze was sharp and almost eager, though he declined to comment directly on what he had just heard. His expression was otherwise grim, however, and even Auriana couldn't quite tell whether he saw value in the new information, or whether her efforts had simply resulted in another dead end.

"Well… we have to move quickly, whatever we do. I have no doubt that everyone involved is destroying evidence as we speak. With that said, however, our top priority ought to be to extract Elanore's family from Redridge." She looked to Shaw. "I promised her they would be safe. Please don't make me a liar."

Auriana felt somewhat uncomfortable asking, though not because she doubted Shaw's expertise. She had always got the sense that Shaw disliked her, though she also wondered whether he actually liked anyone. The spymaster did not twitch so much as a single muscle in his face as she stared deep into the unnerving peridot of his eyes, but after a moment in thought, he agreed.

"I can have them out tonight," he drawled. "If you can get me a clear description, I can also replace them with doubles to avoid arousing undue suspicion."

"Thank you." Auriana then turned to Varian. "I would like to have Elanore look at the body of the man Vol'jin and I found out on the ice. If she can confirm it's the man who threatened her in Redridge, and positively identify him as one of Anguile's enforcers, then her testimony becomes that much stronger."

"Perhaps you could also interview a few other people from Redridge to further verify his identity. If he works for this Duke of yours, surely others have seen him skulking around Lakeshire," Jaina suggested.

"I think we can arrange that," Varian mused. "In the meantime, Shaw - are you able to look into the silver angle? Discreetly, of course."

"As always, Your Majesty."

Auriana's heart leapt.

"Then it's enough? Please tell me it's enough." She grit her teeth. "Tell me we can at least question him."

Shaw cocked a bushy red eyebrow, and glanced sidelong at his King. For his part, Varian closed his fist over the recording crystal, firm enough almost to breaking, and his mouth drew into a thin, determined line.

"It's enough."